


Proposals and Propositions

by misura



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-24
Updated: 2008-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One man's proposal is another man's proposition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proposals and Propositions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/gifts).



 

 

"How," Byerly Vorrutyer asked Ivan Vorpatril, "would you feel about getting married?"

It was, Ivan estimated, about seven in the morning - which qualified for 'unholy early' in Ivan's book, as well as 'not a great time to talk about anything, especially about getting married and to Byerly'. Last time he'd made the mistake of engaging in a conversation with Byerly at this hour had resulted in an extremely embarrassing incident involving being chased by an old lady with a broom and unnerving good aim, and - to add insult to injury - Byerly getting away squeaky clean and without so much as a bruise.

"Yargh?" Most people who brought up the topic of marriage in Ivan's company were either (1) recently married themselves or (2) his mother. Both were reasonably easy to distract from any attempts to have Ivan become one of the 'happily wedded' himself; the first by making polite inquiries about such topics as honeymoons, interior decorating and (in the case of Miles) vague rumors about some scheme or another. The second (that was to say: his mother) was harder to distract, but thanks to long practice and a great ability to slouch and look disinterested, Ivan usually managed to make a clean escape by letting his mother find someone more worthy of her time and concern.

Byerly kicked him. There was a trick to effectively kicking someone when you were both lying in the same bed, and Byerly had mastered it perfectly, thereby proving that the world was basically unfair. Whenever Ivan tried to return the favor, he ended up getting himself tangled in sheets, or pulling a muscle. Nowadays he didn't even bother trying anymore.

"I know I'm not dating you for your sparkling conversational wit, but you could at least make an attempt at normal speech when I'm talking to you."

Truth be told, Ivan wasn't entirely sure what Byerly _was_ dating him for. Amusement, he'd thought at first. The old 'let's get Ivan drunk and drag him home to pretend to have had sex with him the morning' gag - which, all right, Byerly hadn't ever really played on Ivan before, but according to rumor, there were a few unfortunates who _had_ had that joke played on them, and had been forced to make certain concessions in order not to be exposed as not quite being as straight-laced as they prefered to be considered. Nobody ever mentioned any names, of course; it was just hearsay.

Ivan had never believed it. Not because he didn't think Byerly would sink that low, but rather because it seemed like too much work. Byerly wasn't _political_ , after all, and if money was the object, there were easier and safer ways of making it than blackmail.

"It's _early_ ," he pointed out, trying to sound reasonable.

Although he'd never asked, Ivan was fairly sure his first time with Byerly hadn't been while he'd been drunk. Some people claimed to forget things they'd done while under the influence of alcohol (so to speak) but Ivan wasn't one of them. He remembered. Every stupid stunt he'd been talked into, and every sentimental, guts-spilling conversation he'd had with Miles - Ivan recalled them all, if not with perfect clarity then at least with enough clarity to be embarrassed by them while sober.

"On a normal day, you'd be up and about by now."

Strictly speaking, that might be true - if by 'normal', one meant 'working'. Ivan prefered to think of working days as the interruptions of his otherwise free time though. He didn't dislike his job; it simply didn't hold much attraction or interest to him. Simply put, it was rather boring - and while Ivan approved of boring work whole-heartedly ninety-nine percent of the time, one percent of the time, he wished there was something a tad more exciting for him to do all day than feed reports into a machine and occasionally pour coffee. Whenever he felt like that, he tried to avoid running into Miles - not that it ever made any difference in the end, of course. When Miles wanted him, Miles got him.

"It's weekend."

"Good, you're awake," Byerly said. "Coffee?"

Ivan closed his eyes and wished really hard that Byerly would go away. Or just leave him in peace.

"No coffee?"

As always, it didn't work - leaving Ivan facing the Coffee Dilemma, which went about as follows: Ivan could say 'yes' and Byerly would bring him a cup of really great coffee, freshly made and ten times as good as anything Ivan was able to make himself. After he'd drunk it though, it would be impossible to go back to sleep. If he said 'no' or didn't say anything at all, Byerly would probably leave to make coffee anyway; he just wouldn't bring any to Ivan. If Ivan was lucky, Byerly might just make some coffee for himself and then leave Ivan to his slumbers. If Ivan wasn't lucky, Byerly would just come back to bed, fully awake and probably about to trick Ivan into helping him with some scheme or another.

If Ivan had learned one thing from watching Miles, it was that few things ended well without a certain amount of luck. Being smart helped; being hyperactive, obsessive and unstoppable helped even more, but in the end, Miles pulled people's strings because he was usually luckier than they were. Miles knew how to make himself be lucky - Ivan just knew how to make himself not get killed or noticed too often.

"Yes coffee," Ivan groaned.

Byerly tsk'ed, but he apparently considered Ivan's reaction good enough for the purpose.

Ivan closed his eyes again and tried to make the most of the five minutes of peace and quiet he'd just won for himself. They went by a lot faster than seemed fair.

"Marriage," Byerly reminded him, handing over the steaming mug with 'Greetings from Vorbarr Sultana' on it that Ivan had bought on his first day in the capital, on a whim. He'd meant to send it to someone as a gift - to Miles, maybe - but somehow, it had ended up becoming a part of his small kitchen.

"Not interested." Obviously. One of the good things - in fact, now that Ivan came to think of it, pretty much the only good thing - about his dating Byerly was that there was absolutely no way his mother would try to hear wedding bells when she found out about it. She might even decide that she'd found the reason for Ivan's apparent disinterest in getting married, although Ivan thought that was probably too much to hope for. Still, his mother was a romantic. A short while of pretending he had been struck by lightning instead of dead drunk a the start of his and Byerly's relationship might get his mother off his back for quite a while. The only trick would be to make sure Byerly wasn't around when Ivan did his imitation of a love-struck idiot.

Ivan's first sip of coffee kicked his brains awake - specifically, the part of his brains that concerned itself with suspicious actions and topics of conversation. "You're thinking about getting married?" he asked, not sure how he felt about the prospect.

Marriages of convenience were considered a little old-fashioned in the present day and age, in no small part thanks to Ivan's own mother. Who nonetheless went on pointing out eligible women of his own class to him. Then again, Ivan couldn't really picture Byerly marrying for another reason than convenience. The notion of Byerly being in love was ridiculous. Besides, why would Byerly be dating Ivan if there was some woman he could be dating and getting married to instead?

Unless, of course, dating Ivan was part of some plot. Some scheme. Some elaborate plan Ivan didn't know a thing about and had gotten involved in unwittingly, thanks to Byerly needing a dummy and Ivan being handy. Miles did it all the time, although Miles usually had the decency to tell Ivan at least a little bit about what was going on and who might try to kill him.

Byerly, of course, didn't have any decency. Ivan knew that.

"Donna spent some time studying the marriage laws before she became a he." If there was a plot, Ivan reasoned, Dono was probably involved as well. It made sense. Byerly had little interest in anyone else's interests except his own, but he and Dono/Donna had always been close. "She discovered some interesting things - like how the law doesn't specify gender."

Ivan nodded absently, mind racing. Miles was still on his honeymoon. That was bad. Only yesterday, Ivan had reflected that it was good, because being far away from Miles tended to mean nobody was trying to get Ivan killed or kidnapped or otherwise damaged, but today, Ivan realized he'd been wrong.

"Naturally, there's a bunch of more recent laws - if by 'more recent', you mean 'only a few centuries old'," Byerly chattered on, "about how wives should behave towards their husbands, and how they're not held accountable for treason and all that, but the ones about actually _getting_ married don't say anything about gender at all. It's a perfect loophole."

Miles was out of reach - probably. Mark was available, but Ivan didn't really like him. Gregor might be willing to lend a hand ... but then, he might also decide to wait and see what happened, instead of doing something right now. Galeni - well, the problem probably wasn't in his department. Aunt Cordelia was always an option; she'd probably be amused, but she'd help him. Her way.

"Probably, there'll be some people objecting anyway. In fact, I'm fairly sure there will be quite the riot." Byerly sounded like he was looking forward to it. He probably was, Ivan thought sourly. Unlike Miles, who'd just as soon keep things quiet, even if he rarely succeeded, Byerly enjoyed causing a fuss.

"I feel sorry for whatever idiot you think you're going to drag into that mess," Ivan said with complete honesty. Byerly raised one eyebrow at him. "They're going to tear you to pieces if you ... "

For some reason, the part of Ivan's brains that did the simple things always seemed to wake up last.

"You want to get married to another guy!" It was insane. Impossible. Things like that didn't happen on Barrayar. On Beta Colony, maybe, but not on Barrayar. Legal loophole or not, nobody on Barrayar was going to stand for someone (and a Vor at that) marrying someone of the same gender.

Ivan wondered if maybe it was time for a short vacation. Or a long one, considering.

Byerly scowled. "You make it sound as if I'm proposing to pick up a random stranger to have a threesome with."

"Well, that might make more sense than this!" Ivan snapped, wondering if he'd be able to grab his clothes and be out of the door before Byerly could tell him anymore about his crazy plans that Ivan wanted absolutely nothing to do with. "What you're proposing is ... well, whatever it is you're proposing, it's nothing you need me for."

"I'm proposing marriage," said Byerly, sounding slightly amused.

"You're ... " Ivan dropped the sock he'd picked up. "To _me_?"

"Well, no. To that _other_ person I've been dating the past three months."

"Oh," said Ivan.

"You can think about it for a while, of course," Byerly said with an air of generosity. "I just thought I'd ask about your feelings on the matter before proposing in public. There's that new expensive restaurant everybody who's somebody dines at nowadays - I was thinking I could do it there."

"Oh," said Ivan, again. He could picture the scene with horrifying clearness. If 'dying of embarrassment' hadn't just been a manner of speech, he wouldn't have needed to worry at anything that happened beyond that moment. As it was ... "Well. Okay. I'll think about it, I guess."

He'd been dodging marriages for most of his adult life; how hard could dodging one more be? He just needed some time to think, come up with a plan - or an escape-route. Whichever worked.

"How'd you like to have breakfast somewhere?" Byerly asked casually. "There's this new place only a few blocks away - their muffins are quite good, or so I've been told."

"I don't know." Ivan located his other sock. His stomach rumbled.

Byerly grinned. "My treat," he offered.

Ivan frowned as he straightened out his pants. "Will they be open this early?"

"Don't worry - they open at seven. By the time we get there, it should be quite busy. Luckily, they take reservations." Byerly checked his watch. "You've got five minutes to find a shirt."

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] Proposals and Propositions by misura](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11481072) by [Rhea314 (Rhea)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Rhea314)




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